Page 14 of The Bear's Matchmaking Mix-up Mate
She smiled, a small, private smile that made his chest ache. “It’s something I have been working on for the last couple of days.”
Since she met us,his bear said smugly.
“It sounds great,” Finn said, leaning back against the counter. He watched as Midnight leaped onto the chair beside Wren, butting her head against her elbow until she received the pets she clearly thought she deserved.
“Your cat has decided I’m acceptable company,” Wren said, scratching behind Midnight’s ears.
The sight of his standoffish cat curling into Wren’s touch sent a wave of tenderness through him. Even his animals recognized what she was to him.
Of course, Midnight knows. Just like Mrs. Abernathy knew,his bear said smugly.Everyone can see she belongs with us.
Finn reached for the coffeepot. “Refill?”
“Please.” Wren pushed her mug toward him. “This is fantastic coffee, by the way. Much better than what I’ve been making.”
“It’s my mom’s special blend,” he said, then winced internally at mentioning his mother again. “She gets beans from this tiny roaster in Wolf Creek and mixes in cinnamon and vanilla when she grinds them.”
“Cinnamon,” Wren repeated, her expression brightening. “That’s what I’ve been tasting. I love cinnamon in everything. Coffee, tea, apple pie. There was this little bakery near my old apartment that made these cinnamon knots with orange glaze that I used to get every Sunday morning.”
Finn filed away this detail like a treasure. Cinnamon. Orange. Sunday mornings. He made a silent vow to learn how to bake cinnamon knots, or at least track down the best ones for her. If it made her smile, it was worth it.
“I’ll ask Alfie to ask Welland, who runs the café at the garden center, if he can bake some,” he said.
“You don’t have to go to any trouble,” she began, but the smile on her lips told him she appreciated the thoughtful gesture.
“It’s no trouble,” Finn insisted. “He could bake some for the fundraiser; we’re planning a cake stall. I mean, who doesn’t like cake? I’m partial to his honey cake myself.”
“Maybe we could go over there sometime. My treat. As a thank you for breakfast,” she said, color flushing her cheeks.
“I’d like that,” Finn replied as Rusty emerged from wherever he’d been hiding and wound between Wren’s ankles, his orange tail flicking with uncharacteristic friendliness.
“Your cats are very affectionate,” Wren said, reaching down to stroke Rusty’s back.
“They don’t usually warm up to strangers this fast,” Finn said, watching Rusty purr as Wren’s fingers found just the right spot behind his ears. “They seem to sense you’re not a threat,” Finn said, watching as Shadow finally emerged from the bedroom, padding over to investigate this new person who had somehow won over his usually aloof housemates.
His bear preened with satisfaction.Of course, they like her. She’s ours.
Or theirs,Finn chuckled. Cats had a way of claiming their territory and their people. He’d often suspected that his three cats saw this cabin as theirs and he was simply their manservant, supplying food and pets when required.
But this felt different. It was as if they sensed what Wren meant to him. As if they knew that one day soon, Wren would live under the same roof, and this was their way of telling Finn they approved.
“I think they know you’re special,” Finn said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I mean, they have good instincts about people.”
Wren glanced up, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made his heart thump against his ribs. The air between them seemed to shimmer with something unspoken, something that made Finn’s bear pace restlessly beneath his skin. Wren’s lips parted slightly, as if she might say something, but the moment stretched too long and she looked away, her cheeks flushing pink.
Finn’s pulse hammered in his throat. He’d almost said too much, revealed too much. The urge to tell her everything—about mates, about the pull he felt, about how she’d changed his world simply by existing in it—pressed against his chest like a physical weight.
Then Shadow finally approached, his gray form slinking closer with typical feline caution. When he rubbed against Wren’s leg, purring loud enough to fill the kitchen, Finn felt the tension ease.
“Aren’t you beautiful,” Wren murmured to Shadow.
“Well, that settles it,” Finn said, grateful for the distraction. “You’ve been officially accepted into the household.”
Wren laughed. “I’m honored.”
But Finn was the one who felt honored. The realization struck him with sudden clarity as he watched Wren cradling Shadow against her chest, the cat’s eyes half-closed in bliss. This extraordinary woman—talented, kind, beautiful—was his mate. The universe had somehow decided that she belonged with him, of all people.
What had he done to deserve her?
